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“Me? Why?”
He approaches me as Emma gets down from the sofa and sits down with a hand on her chest, trying to calm her heart.
“I know you’re having a hard time at the moment, kiddo. I don’t know what it is exactly, but a dad knows when his little girl isn’t feeling safe.”
“Dad—”
He puts a hand up. “If you don’t want to tell me, I won’t force it out of you. You can take your dog with you wherever you go. It will be an extra layer of protection. Until you feel ready to let me know what’s going on, just know I’ve got your back.”
Tears spring to my eyes, threatening to fall. My throat is too tight to talk, so I say nothing. I simply nod a few times. It’s almost imperceptible, but I know he sees it because something breaks in his eyes. Almost like he was hoping he was making it all up. Acting like an overprotective dad. Now he knows for sure that something’s wrong, and he feels powerless. Just like I do.
Out of pure need, I take my dad in my arms and bury myself against him. He holds me tightly and I feel my new dog attempting to come between our bodies. It makes us both laugh as we pull away.
“What are you gonna name her?” he asks me as he runs a hand through his beard.
“Mmm,” I start to think.
“Murderer,” Emma mumbles behind my dad.
The dog barks at her, and I bend down to pet her. “You’re the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” I tell her like I would a baby. “Murderer is too much, Em. How about Murder,” I smile as I straighten back up.
“Oh yeah, so different.” My sister rolls her eyes.
“Should keep a few ill-intended people at bay,” my dad smiles.
“Yup.”
“You’re keeping her in your room, you hear me?” Emma complains. “I am not having this thing running around the house. And keep her far away from my hair extensions!”
“Yeah, yeah,” I wave her off as I grab Murder by the collar. “Come, girl.”
We go to my room, and she settles on the floor in front of my bed immediately. I go back to the living room and get her a bowl of water. My dad gives me a toy and some food he bought her. So I put that in my room too.
I only fall asleep around one a.m. I’m having too much fun with Murder and can’t come down from the giddiness.
For the first time in a long while, I fall asleep without fear in my stomach because I can hear the soft snores of Murder on the floor by the end of my bed.
I feel something is wrong when a noise wakes me up. It’s soft, quiet, but I hear it anyway. It slips into my dream and makes me feel uneasy. I don’t fully wake up until a hand lands on my mouth, pressing harshly. It mutes the screech that would have come out otherwise, and I fight against it right away. My defense mechanism kicks in, and I punch the shadow in front of me. A grunt escapes them, and I grab their forearm, twisting myself until I can push them off.
I’m free for a split second but am now too shell-shocked to scream past my panting breaths. I go for my bedside table, attempting to grab the knife I keep there. Only he’s quicker than me and takes it before I can.
I already recognize the smell of Caden. It’s fresh. Something aquatic with a tinge of weed and mint from his breath. I can make out his wicked smile even in the night and the way his hair falls on either side of his forehead.
He pushes me against the mattress and settles on my thighs, stopping me from getting up. He uses my own knife against my throat, leaving it to gently touch my skin, forcing me to be still.
“Shh.” He smirks. “I’ll only hurt you if you resist.”
“What are you doing?” I pant. My heart is racing so fast it makes me feel sick. My eyes drop to catch the knife, but I can only see as far as his wrist.
“It’s six a.m.,” he says casually. “The sun is about to rise, and I thought I’d come and be your alarm clock.”
I feel the blade against my throat as I gulp down my fear.
“I-I don’t need you to be my alarm.” I bring a hand to his forearm, gently trying to pry it away from my artery.
“Don’t try to move me away, little Scott. I want you to feel that I hold your life in my hands.”
“I can’t breathe,” I lie.
